


Sometimes it Takes Being Kidnapped, I Guess

by FountainPen



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Protective Carlton Lassiter, Self-Indulgent, Shawn Whump, Shawn gets kidnapped, Whump, but not enough to warrant a character tag, juliet is in it for a second, listen i really just needed some hurt/comfort, some self loathing, what can i say i love shawn being injured
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainPen/pseuds/FountainPen
Summary: Shawn is kidnapped to lure Lassiter into an (obvious) trap, Lassiter has to save him before it's too late.
Relationships: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 1
Kudos: 153





	Sometimes it Takes Being Kidnapped, I Guess

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm gonna be honest guys, this is not of my usual quality and super self-indulgent, I'm totally swamped [failing just a teeny bit] with school right now, and just really needed some Hurt/comfort, if anyone has any fic recs with Shawn whump and shassie, lmk because a guy could use some right now)

Shawn was getting worried. He had no way of knowing how long he’d spent bound and gagged in the cramped little basement with no windows, or even how long it had been since his captors stabbed him and left him there. At first, Shawn was sure he’d be fine, it was a short knife and he wasn’t bleeding much at first, and they’d even done him the courtesy of leaving the knife in his side. Yeah, it made Shawn feel sick every time he looked down but it meant he wouldn’t be bleeding out as quickly.

They’d kept him here for at least a day, from what he’d overheard. Probably more, but Shawn’s sense of time was gone without a clock or a window. Shawn wasn’t really sure it mattered, struggling only made his side worse, and his phone was tossed out a window the second he was pulled into the van that took him from the psych office to this hellhole.

As time went on, and his blood slowly _drip-dripped_ __ onto the floor, Shawn was feeling more and more hopless. Because the people who had taken him told him why. They were baiting Lassiter. They thought that the Head detective would come running if his pet psychic was in danger, so they told the SBPD where Shawn was. Lassiter was to come alone or they’d kill Shawn. They must’ve gotten tired of waiting, because one minute Shawn was trying to chew through his gag, the next he was screaming into it. 

As time crawled on and he solely bled, Shawn was forced to admit that Lassiter wasn’t coming. He didn’t give a shit about his _pet psychic_ __ Shawn didn’t matter to Carlton. 

But Shawn knew that already. You don’t pester a man every day for years and delude yourself into thinking you’re friends with the possibility of something more, that would just be silly, and unrealistic. Lassiter hated him. Shawn… didn’t hate Lassiter. He wished he could have told him that.

It was getting cold, and Shawn was getting tired. Nodding off probably wasn’t very smart, all things considered, but Shawn never claimed to be smart.

* * *

Carlton had never felt quite so undignified in his life. First criminals he’d booked and hadn’t been able to charge had- had  _ taken  _ Spencer- the fact they’d been able to clock his begrudging _whatever_ __ for the moron was embarrassing enough. Now Karen was keeping him at the station with a 24-hour guard, and Spencer was still missing. 

_ Spencer _ . God, what had Carlton gotten himself into?

They gave him two days to show alone, or Spencer was dead. Time was dragging on and every second he spent in this room was another second off of Spencer’s life. 

The department had narrowed down the possible places they could be holding Spencer, but none of them had any signs of people left. Carlton didn’t want to think about that could mean.

O’Hara visited him once. She told him Spencer would be just fine, that they would find him. That wasn’t much help while Carlton was stuck at the station. He made her promise he’d get to be there when they got Spencer back. It took some nagging, and it was more than easy to look pathetic.

Carlton was starting to think he’d invited to find Spencer’s body when the call came in about a house outside of their search area. The two days were almost up, and Shawn’s time was running out. 

The drive was nothing short of tense, and Carlton wasn’t shy about reckless driving. O’Hara thankfully said nothing about it. 

When they arrived Carlton had his door open before they were stopped and was halfway up the porch before O’Hara had gotten her seatbelt off. Carlton could hear the chief shouting behind him, he was being careless and he knew it. He cleared the first floor in seconds before charging down into the basement, O’Hara had finally caught up and was right behind him, she was saying something but his ears were ringing, there was a pitiful looking figure in a chair at the bottom of the stairs.

They had found Spencer.

Carlton crouched in front of the unconscious ( _please, god, let him just be unconscious)_ psychic, and pulled the gag from around his head.

“Spencer- fuck,” Carlton hissed, Spencer was unresponsive and pale and small, and _damnit,_ he wasn’t supposed to look like that. O’Hara’s flashlight revealed Spencer’s bloodstained shirt and the puddle of blood surrounding him.

“Shit, we need EMT’s _now!"_ O'Hara shouted up the stairs. “Carlton, I’m getting the chief. You- you stay with Shawn.”

“Go,” Carlton said, voice thick and eyes burning. O’Hara left them and Carlton turned back to Spencer. “Shit, Shawn, you dumbass, christ Shawn.” Carlton’s hands were on Shawn’s face, he was pretending it was to check his pulse but Carlton was afraid that if he checked it wouldn’t be there. He just needed Spencer to respond, damnit. And for once the consultant didn’t disappoint. Shawn coughed, lurching forward as much as his restraints would allow.

“Shawn would you stop moving, you’ve… you’ve lost enough blood as it is,” Carlton said, gripping Spencer by the shoulders and settling him back against the chair. Carlton went to work untying him, and Shawn chuckled, blinking half-lidded eyes slowly up at Carlton.

“Lassie,” Shawn spoke quietly, breath labored as he did, “Y’called me... Shawn.”

“It’s your name, dumbass,” Carlton replied, he had to keep Shawn talking as long as he could.

“Didn’t, uh, didn’t think you’d show,” Shawn croaked.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?”

“‘Cause I’m- I’m a total pain in the ass,” Shawn replied, “kidnapped the wrong... _Jesus,_ this shit hurts- the wrong guy.”

“Shawn-”

“It’s- it’s cool, y’made it in time,” Shawn interrupted, “Sorry y’had to come get me.”

“They didn’t get the wrong guy, Shawn,” Carlton said, “They took you because they knew it’d fuck with my head more than anything else.”

“Huh?" Carlton shook his head. Not now.

“Damnit Shawn, this is neither the time nor the place,” Carlton said, “O’Hara’s going to be back soon with EMT’s and we’re going to get you out of here.

“Y’can’t just say shit like that to a guy and- goddamn _fuck-_ and then not explain,” Shawn was grimacing now. “But I’m _super_ tired, so we’ll put a, uh… a pin in that.”

Shit shit _shit,_ that wasn’t good. There was commotion from upstairs, the EMT’s were almost there.

“Shawn, stay with me, you have to stay awake,” Carlton told him. Shawn’s head drooped and Carlton quickly found his hand pressing against the side of Shawn’s face.

“Lassie- y’gotta know” Shawn said, blinking up at Carlton, “I don’t… I don’t hate you. Promise.”

“Gee, thanks,” Carlton replied. It was some small comfort Shawn was able to joke around.

“ _ No _ , no. you prob’ly think I hate you, ‘cause I screw with you so much, ‘nd I didn’t think I’d get t’tell you I didn’t. Don’t” Shawn said. He was getting slower, and Carlton couldn’t help but feel like he was slowing down right along with him.

“Shawn…”

Shawn opened his mouth, and then Shawn screwed his face up for a moment while he inched his own hand to rest on Carlton’s. Soon after Shawn’s eyes fluttered shut despite Carlton’s protest.

* * *

Shawn woke up in the hospital, which was good because it meant he’d lived, but it was also bad because _damn,_ did Shawn hate hospitals. The second thing he noticed was Lassie sat in the chair next to the bed, fidgeting with his phone. Shawn didn’t remember much from after he passed out the first time, just a warm hand and Lassie doing what he does best and chastising Shawn for being a dumbass. He’d definitely been calling him Shawn.

Shawn tried to sit up, hissing when his side throbbed. Lassie was up immediately, hand hovering over his gun before he realized where he was and coughed awkwardly into his fist.

“Uh, hey,” Shawn said- well, rasped. Jesus his throat was raw. Lassiter shuffled closer and handed him the little plastic cup of water on the table. “Thanks.” 

Lassiter nodded at him, not meeting his eyes. Shawn couldn’t stand it, Lassiter and he totally had a moment and now it was all _awkward_.

“Am I going to carry this conversation all on my lonesome or can we talk like human people?” Shawn asked, Lassie glaring at him from a distance that was just enough to be awkward.

“Spencer-”

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to go back to that all the time. You can’t just call me Shawn when I’m dying,” Shawn interrupted.

“How much do you remember?” Lassiter- Carlton asked. Shawn wasn’t going to do things halfway.

“I remember being stabbed, for one,” Shawn said. It hurt like a motherfucker, too, There was definitely nightmare potential there that Shawn was not looking forward to, “I remember you being totally heroic and rescuing me, “And I meant what I said when I said I don’t hate you.”

“I’m flattered,” Carlton replied. Shawn huffed and then winced because even  _ breathing  _ hard was too much for his side. 

“Would you quit being an ass for a second? Please? I- I thought I was going to die. I would have- if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Shawn, I’m the reason you were there in the first place, you have every reason to hate me,” Carlton said.

“Come here,” Shawn demanded. Carlton looked at him and took a single step closer to the bed. “My god, dude sit down, or I’ll get up myself.”

“You’re ridiculously stupid,” Lassiter said, but he sat down and Shawn leaned forward.

“The reason I was down there, is because those guys were fucking nuts,” Shawn said. “I’ve been plenty kidnapped on my own.”

“That doesn’t make it any less my fault,” Carlton said quietly. “They took you, because- because-”

“Because they made the mistake of thinking you actually liked me.”

“You have to stop interrupting me, Shawn” Carlton told him. “They took you because they saw right through me.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Shawn said. Lassie slid his hand over Shawn’s, not avoiding his eyes anymore. Shawn's breath hitched, just a little, “Following now.”

“Shawn.”

“Carlton,” Shawn replied, just barely making fun of him. Shawn pulled Carlton toward him by the tie, which hurt his side much more than it should have in Shawn’s opinion. At the same time though, Shawn decided he'd get stabbed a hundred more times if it meant experiencing a kiss like that again. Carlton pulled away after a moment, taking Shawn's hands in his admittedly larger ones.

"Jesus, Shawn your hands are freezing," Carlton hissed.

“Correction; Hospitals are freezing, and I don’t know how long I’ve been here, so I haven’t been able to Psychically heat my hands up,” Shawn said.

“We’re going to have to talk about that,” Carlton said.

“Now?” Shawn asked, or rather admittedly whined.

“No, not now,” Carlton replied, “But your father and Guster are going to be back soon, your mother too.”

“Jesus,” Shawn groaned, “This is one of the many reasons I hate hospitals.”

“You’re not getting out of here until you can blink without flinching,” Carlton said.

“Very funny,” Shawn grumbled, “My dad might kill you though, just so you know.”

“We don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Carlton told him.

“I’m down if you are Carlytown.”

“Good God, you will not be calling me that,” Carlton groaned.

“I absolutely will, that and a thousand other stupid little pet names that you’re going to secretly adore,” Shawn grinned.

“I’ll let it slide if you stop getting kidnapped,” Carlton said.

“Mmmm, too hard, you’ll have to watch me all the time,” Shawn said. He yawned and leaned against Lassie’s shoulder.

“Guster’s going to kill me for not getting him when you woke up,” Carlton said.

“Leaving the -” Shawn yawned again, “difficult conversations to you, tough guy.”

“Ass.”

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I ask that if you've enjoyed this story, you visit  
> https://www.standwithbre.com/  
> or  
> https://blacklivesmatter.com/resources/
> 
> As of 11/14/2020 Breonna Taylor still does not have the justice she deserves. Neither do countless other BIPOC individuals who are the victims of police violence and institutional racism. The momentum of the movement is slowing down and I would like to remind anyone that needs to hear it that Black Lives Matter is not a trend. Their lives matter, and always will. If you have any resources you'd like me to share please let me know and I'll add it to this list/future fics.


End file.
